


“You don’t have to act like you’re okay.”

by Last_Haven



Category: Bendy and the Ink Machine
Genre: Challenge Response, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, One-sided pining, Short & Sweet, pre transformation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-27
Updated: 2018-06-27
Packaged: 2019-05-29 13:50:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15074501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Last_Haven/pseuds/Last_Haven
Summary: Sammy doesn't know how to comfort others, but he hopes music can soothe where his words fail.





	“You don’t have to act like you’re okay.”

She’s crying again, tucked into a closet in one of the danker halls. She probably thinks she’s being quiet about it, but she’s not. Or at least not to his musician’s ears (although if he has to keep listening to the echoing groans of the Machine, he might go deaf yet).

He wants to go to her. To knock at the door, to offer her his handkerchief, which is probably drier than any tissue she can find in there. He wants to squeeze in there with her, although his knees would probably have to fold into his chest to do it. He wants to tell her truths and compliments until she finally turns that lovely smile on once more.

But he has never had a silver tongue to comfort others. He knows he’s far more likely to make a lady sob than sigh in happiness.

Instead, he stands down at the other end of the hall and plays his violin, playing the sweetest, warmest songs he knows. With every glide of the bow across the strings, he sends a little hopeful thought down the hall and waits.

At last, the closet door swings open; he keeps playing until she walks towards him. When he looks to her, he sees that she’s cleaned up as best she could and has found her smile once more.

“Sammy, whatcha doing playing such pretty music around here for?”

“Miss Campbell,” he tries to make his voice as warm as his violin had just been. “I just needed an out of the way place to do a bit of practicing without having a dozen people underfoot.”

“Ah, privacy. Lord knows we could all use some that around here,” she says it so nonchalantly, as if she hadn’t just been weeping in the broom closet.

For a moment, he looks at her and he opens his mouth. To tell her that he knew she was crying and why? To tell her Joey’s a bastard for taking Alice away from her when she was so perfect for her? To tell her that she doesn’t have to force that smile if she didn’t want?

Instead, he waits too long and she’s looking at him expectantly. So, he forces himself to nod and straightens. “I just remembered. I believe we still have to record a few more lines before the end of the day.”

“Oh. That’s right,” she murmurs and he can see her deflating. “Pick up for that bit of Bendy and the chicken scene.”

He almost speaks then, almost musters the courage and a prayer for tact.

But she’s smiling already, pretty mask in place like a real professional. “Well, we should get going then before we get yelled at, huh?”

He wants to kick himself. Instead, he offers her his arm and it feels cheap against the weight of the words he should have said. But she loops her arm in the crook of his elbow and they start walking towards the recording booths without another word.

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first time I've ever written for Bendy and the Ink Machine. I'm not sure I captured the voices right, but I hope I got close enough. This was a response to a hellsdemonictrinity's list of Angst/Fluff prompts on tumblr and thethrillof was kind enough to request this prompt.


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